


In Our Own Way

by cecilkirk



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Petekey - Fandom
Genre: Dating in Secret, High School AU, M/M, in which gerard totally knows and hates pete for it, petekey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:36:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilkirk/pseuds/cecilkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Secret' didn't always mean 'bad' or 'wrong,' right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Our Own Way

"It's nothing."

Patrick's eyes were wide in vivid disbelief. "'Nothing'?" he asks incredulously.

"Nothing," Pete repeated, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. "It's kisses on the necks of best friends. Nothing more."

"Pete..." Patrick turned to look out the passenger side window. "Pete, it can't be like that. It can't be that simple."

"Why not?" Pete asked. Some breed of anger was hardening the edges of his words.

Patrick knocked a knuckle on the glass, watching the world pass them. "Because you're not that simple. Any interaction you have with anyone will never be superficial, or meaningless, or anything short of absolute."

Pete's jaw clenches. He digs his nails into the leather. "So?"

"So," Patrick says, "I worry about you."

The road in front of them beckons Pete's foot downward, carrying them forward more quickly. If he squints, the distance will alleviate the tension between their seats. "Well, don't. You don't need to."

Patrick says nothing for a while, and the tension builds. It feels tight around Pete's knuckles.

"Not everyone feels things as deeply as you do, Pete. Just be aware of that."

Pete glances at Patrick, but he won't return the motion. He repositions his focus on the road, accelerating in the effort of leaving their words behind them.

 

 

 

Pete isn't amazed to see the Way garage is surrounded by a group of teenagers. The band they've put together is scrappy, but they've got real potential. Pete had felt a magnetism around their performances, even when he didn't always feel it around them as people, as peers, as classmates. From the back of the crowd, Pete sees Mikey's fingers plucking bass strings, back turned to the audience. His chest tightens. He'd always felt magnetized to this fragment of the band.

This wasn't the first set Pete had seen, and though he loves it, his thoughts hum peripherally. He doesn't mind Ray or Frank; they're not necessarily friends, but not enemies. Any distance between them was easily and amiably covered. But Gerard--

Pete scans the crowd, dancing and singing alone. Beside him, Patrick is nodding his head to the beat and mouthing a scant handful of lyrics. There is something sickening to Pete knowing this band is a solace for these group of kids because it is something Gerard created.

Pete's eyes meet Gerard's for just a moment, accidentally. He swears Gerard shoots him a look of discontent. For the rest of the set, a muted anger envelops Pete.

 

 

 

The set ends abruptly, and the crowd disperses. There was something unholy about the sudden end and disappearance of fans, but also something that struck a sharp, vivid reality. It was beautiful; it was done. Pete could find some peace just in knowing it had existed.

By some unknown and all-knowing force of the universe, Gerard and Patrick were friends. Pete could never have been more grateful for this, and Patrick knew. Pete could use this to get Mikey alone; he didn't even think Gerard was aware of the two of them leaving because he was sucked into a conversation with Patrick.

Maybe Patrick knew how inherently wrong it was to strengthen his friendship with Gerard just to help Pete. Maybe Patrick felt bitter about it, or upset in some way--by default, Pete was using him. If he had, he didn't tell Pete about it. Mikey looks out the passenger window just as Patrick had with the same look of wonder. He rests his hand on Pete's without looking, idly playing with his fingers.

If Patrick was unhappy, Pete would deal with that later.

 

 

 

Pete sets his phone in the cup holder. He lets it vibrate.

As he drives out of town, out of other towns, into new towns, he ignores the texts from Patrick. As he shares a shitty meal at a shitty diner, he leaves his phone in the car. As he presses wet, tongue-filled kisses to Mikey's neck, he pretends he doesn't hear Gerard calling him. And as he buttons his pants and clicks his seatbelt, he pretends frantic texts from Frank don't exist.

Memories are stitched into the leather seats and whispered promises film on the windows. Pete found comfort on the road. He could escape anything. In his car, he could make anything real; in his car, he could leave his reality behind him. He thought there was beauty in making his car sacred because he could control what happened within it. Whatever was abandoned between the seats could be brought back to life. This was peace. At the very least, it was the peace he was allowed to have.

They near the town, and Pete can see Mikey's posture tighten as worry straightens his spine. Pete was angry at himself for putting Mikey through the stress of keeping everything secret. He hated that he had ruined Mikey's relationship with his brother. He hated that he had strained their own relationship. But he could function, they could function; everything would be okay in the end, surely, surely.

Mikey leaves without a kiss goodbye, or even the words. Pete watches him dash through the dark inside his house. 

Early morning digits create small beads of light inside the car. They remind Pete of his surreptitious actions. They will never let him forget.

Pete doesn't dare look at his phone, not while he's in his car. He needs to keep it a sanctuary. He needs to keep it a source of comfort. He doesn't know when he'll find another.


End file.
